Chapter 70
**Matthew’s POV**
Something was very, very wrong.
The moment I got the call, something inside me shifted, that cold, quiet voice deep in my gut whispering that I was about to lose control. They had Heizel. And the second those words settled in, every rational part of my brain shut off, leaving only one singular, all-consuming thought.
They are going to die.
I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t wait. Didn’t think.
This wasn’t a situation that called for negotiation. There would be no sitting around a polished conference table trading deals. They stole Heizel from me. And now I was coming for them, armed with fifty men, loaded weapons, and a rage so consuming it felt like it was burning me alive from the inside out.
Taylor was already moving beside me, strapping on his gear, his expression unreadable—but I could feel it radiating off him, the same cold fury settling into his bones. He didn’t need to ask questions, didn’t need to be told what came next. He knew. This wasn’t just a mission. It was personal.
I slid a magazine into my pistol, pulled back the slide, and slammed the weapon into my holster, my movements sharp and methodical. We were out the door in under five minutes, loading into the armored SUVs, our convoy slicing through the city like a silent, calculated storm.
The drive was silent. No one spoke. No one needed to.
The only sound was the low hum of the engines and the distant crackle of the radio as my men reported their positions. My grip tightened around my gun, the smooth weight of it grounding me, keeping me from slipping completely into the abyss. But I was close. So damn close.
I could see her face in my mind—her bright, teasing smile, the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, the soft way she breathed my name in the quiet moments we shared. That same face was now trapped somewhere, hidden away by monsters who thought they could take her from me.
I would burn the world down before I let that happen.
The Hill mansion loomed ahead, its towering iron gates standing between me and the answers I needed. I didn’t hesitate.
“Go.”
A deafening explosion split the night as the gates were blasted open, twisted metal flying in all directions. Within seconds, we were inside.
Gunfire erupted as guards scrambled to react, but they were too slow. My men moved with lethal precision, cutting through them like a blade through silk. The security team—trained, well-paid, probably good at their jobs—didn’t stand a chance against us.
A single guard rounded the corner, his gun raised—I put a bullet between his eyes before he could even aim. He crumpled to the ground, his body thudding against the marble floor, and I barely spared him a glance before pushing forward.
Every hallway blurred together in a haze of violence, my focus locked onto a singular goal—getting to Bruce Hill.
I stormed through the mansion like a man possessed, kicking open doors, tearing through his defenses, taking down his men one by one until there was no one left standing between me and the bastard responsible for all of this.
I found him in his office, standing in front of a massive screen, his wife clinging to his arm, both of them shaking like cornered prey.
But they weren’t crying for Heizel.
*No.*
They were crying because of what was on that screen.
I turned my head slowly, following their gaze. My heart slammed against my ribs, a thick, choking weight settling in my chest as the video flickered to life.
And then—
*I saw her.*